


Owl Slut of the Wolf

by VixenWriter



Series: Indecency's Dawn [2]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Anal Sex, Bestiality, F/F, F/M, Gangbang, Gokkun, Mind Control, Mind/Mood Altering Substances, Night Elf, Oral Sex, Orgy, Sex Toys, Sexual Content, Sexual Slavery, Tease Heavy, Wolf Sex, Worgen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:27:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23925349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VixenWriter/pseuds/VixenWriter
Summary: Tyrande greets the wolven guests in her feasting halls, unaware of the fact she is about to become a meal herself, a very tender, well pounded meal of elven fuckmeat. With hungering wolves to surround her, much shall flow down priestess' throat, given the potency of canine seed and it's questionable effect on elven minds.
Series: Indecency's Dawn [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1724635
Kudos: 25





	1. A Carnal Feast

Echo of steps carried itself across the marble halls, heard only by the royal guard. “Our halls always remain open, bedsteads warm and food worth one's salt. For those we call allies, that is.”

“It brings honor to me and my people to be your allies.” Doors creaked, opening the pathway to a vast, moon-lit dining hall where golden fireflies danced in the air. No matter the beauty of Kaldorei keep, she had a strange feeling that sapphire eyes were turned somewhere else.

“The feeling appears to be mutual.” Practiced, proud voice of the priestess filled the room. With a simple nod she sent away one of her sisters.

Taking opposite seats at the lengthy table, they stared at each other, awaiting the much fine dishes that would soon leave kitchen, prepared for the finest of elven cook-maidens, especially one young, light hearted girl with huge blue areolas, who “befriended” her guest last night.

“It has reached my ears that you've launched a surprise attack on Undercity. It surprises me just as equally as saddens, knowing that you failed” Tyrande squinted her eyes, staring at her guest.

Do not think I don't know what you're here for. Thought the Elune's chosen whilst Greymane examined his own claws, surprisingly remaining in the wolven form for the time of their dinner. A weak intimidation if you attempted one.

“We have spotted a weakness in their ranks and decided to strike into the heart of enemy nation.” Worgen eyes, blue and deep as the sky itself turned to her.

“The tensions were rising since long and had you succeeded, we would have upper hand on the horde.” Glimmer of her eyes dimmed mildly as she stared at him with squinted ones. “With this you have only stirred the burning oil of this war.”

“That is why I am grateful for the allies I share in these dire times, Tyrande.” Worgen leader discreetly stared at the deep cleavage of elven leader. Not discreetly enough for her to not catch it.

“Allies you can lose easily, Greymane. You struck in unprovoked manner on the Banshee Queen and now you return to me like a pup with tail between his legs” Cold voice of the priestess filled the hall, scented with harshness. It would seem I made a mistake in choosing my allies.

“I would not call the genocide of my nation, usage of blight on my city and turning my people into refuges; an unprovoked strike but yet now, seeking vengeance, I am called the aggressor.” His voice turned into angered snarl, the blood price was just recently paid.

“Looks can be deceiving, I assume that you of all know it the best” Purple lips bent into a small smile, she certainly felt in control as sapphire eyes seemed to pierce her through.

“Doubtlessly… Considering the aid you once shown to us.. ” He snarled as kaldorei servants marched into the hall, soon resting an appetizing game before both racial leaders.

Even now he stared blatantly at her cleavage.“I had assumed that my allies would know better than to crawl back to me after a defeat and ask me to save their face. You had your grand advantage on this battlefield, yet failed miserably to carry it out.”

Juicy, well-done pounds of meat, still mildly steamy, dripped richly in natural oils, packed on the silver plate with mashed potatoes, everything coated in a thick, gooey layer of white sauce based on eggs and mayonnaise.

Tyrande reached for the seasoning herbs, prepared in a small bowl just next to the dish, allowing each to his own.

“Now…” She spoke as a rain of colorful grains covered the white surface. “...I may aid you but it won't come at no price Greymane.” Even the oldest wolves need to be taught humility.

Greymane raised the piece of seasoned game to his jaw, quickly snatching it off the fork. A mild smile painted itself on his lips as priestess’ eyes spread wildly when the thick sauce began to melt on her tongue.

“Something wrong, my dear?” His voice appeared to be rather amused at this point but Tyrande only shook her head as she almost spat out the intensively salty meal which seemed to invade every single of her taste buds and glue purple lips together.

Her expression broke a little as she forced the dish down her throat. I may have to talk with the kitchen servants as well. “It would just appear that one of my cooks has accidentally overdone the seasoning” She stared strangely at her meal.

“Are you sure? Perhaps just a bad bite. Mine has a flavour I would expect from elven mistress of the kitchen.” He raised another piece, truly enjoying his dish. She raised her angered expression onto the wolf.

“Yes.. Doubtlessly.” She nodded and slowly another bit of meat, bathed in thick, oozing sauce made it to her mouth. At the usual she would never touch the over salted meal again, there was something in it that urged her to eat more.

For Tyrande did not know that her piece of the game spent last twenty four hours marinating in a cumfilled barrel of wolven jizz, graciously extracted by the chief-maiden of kaldorei kitchen.

“I am ensured one can not judge a dish until there is no more of it.” Greymane added with a confident voice, still openly staring into her breasts with a hungry expression. However vulgar he became, she could not disagree.

“It is unwise to eat without regular drinking, my dear.” He raised the wine chalice and took a sip of his alcohol, sending a kiss afterwards to his host. “Do not forget where you are, Greymane.” Tyrande’s voice was near a growl.

“Naturally…” Wolven leader smiled as Tyrande raised her own chalice, unknowingly guzzling down entire load of the same sauce which which covered her meal. Once done, elven leader exhaled deeply with red cheeks, feeling waves of heat embracing her body. What is the meaning of this feeling.

“Something wrong?” Gilnean leader took another sip of his wine. “It would appear that you’re in a little heat. Rightfully so, there is just so many people in the room.” Sapphire eyes slowly turned around on the guards.

He’s right. Kaldorei leader rised her hand, sending off four guards that stood on the very edges of grand dining hall, vast enough to host a feast for entire royalty of the Alliance. Within no time, they were left alone.

Tyrande continued to eat her meal, slowly and with heavy moves as her breaths turned shallow and hot. She held the thick meal on her tongue with every bite, savouring the insanely salty but somehow delicious aroma, feeling as it choked her taste buds.

With shaking hand, priestess elevated the last piece of her meal to puffy lips, watching as the tender meat was buried under a layer of oversalted liquid as she carefully wiped the plate to not leave even a tiniest remnant of it.

Burying the final bite in her mouth, she clenched her thighs as her expression broke, barely capable of withstanding the intensity of it’s aroma. Playing with it on her tongue for a few wonderful moments, she finally forced it down her neck, feeling as the remnants of thick ooze remained on the walls of her throat.

“It would appear you are still in heat. Allow me to aid you there.” Greymane showed off his teeth in a wide smile, flashing with the rows of worgen fangs, ready to rip and tear, all as his muscles tensed, supported on the table to let him rise.

“Sit on your spot, Greymane. You are my guest, do not forget that.” Elven voice turned out to be a bit sharper than she intended but the heat inside her clogged her mind softly.

“My sincerest apologies.” Wolf remained on his seat in peace. “But it is unfit for a good host to keep his guests so far away.” He canted his head softly.

He was right. It was far too disrespectful of her to keep such a distance. “Forgive me. It is the… heat. Makes one’s thoughts heavy.” Priestess raised from her seat, swallowing heavily and looked at the wolf, unsure why she apologized, given it was just the natural state of things.

“Doubtlessly. Perhaps it's the dress.” Greymane’s voice far too confident in his advice but nonetheless, the wolf was doubtlessly right. “It would be wise to get rid of it.”

“Do not school me, Wolf. I was to do it regardless of your words.” Letting out a hot breath, Tyrande reached to the bottom of silken creation, folding the fabric and staring at plump legs.

Juicy, well rounded thighs coated themselves in red, stirred by the radiating heat and force with which she clenched them without knowing it. Priestess inhaled deeply. What is this feeling, oh Elune?

“Need a hand?” Worgen voice shook her out of the trance, allowing her to realize that he stood right behind her with a wide grin. What is the meaning of this, when did he move?

“Do not…” Her breath broke softly, turning into shuddering one. It would take far too long to get rid of it herself, even with her handmaidens it tended to take a while.

“Do not consider this a natural state of things, Greymane. It is but an exception.” She let out a weak growl, squinting eyes from warmth seeding inside her belly, growing weak in the head.

“Naturally.” She felt a sharp claw run across her back, breaking through the dress and caressing the amethyst skin. Tyrande shivered when it dipped between her buttcheeks, place rarely receiving touch.

With a loud, jewelry scented thud, Priestess’ dress met the floor, heavy as its owner's thoughts, yet much clearer than them, a matter meant to change with time. She swallowed the flooding saliva, standing in nothing but what kept her body covered beneath the dress.

She frowned heavily as wolven claws grasped the fat, amethyst ass of elven priestess, forcing the plump flesh to spill from between his fingers. “Here I thought elves are modest in these matters.” Greymane’s whisper reached her ears, forcing moonlit eyes to lower.

Moon shaded silk covered her crotch in form of large, laced thong with floral pattern adorning the fabric. A thin string digged between her grasp-filling asscheeks, disappearing entirely to cover tight, unused hole of Elune’s chosen.

“Kaldorei do not need to bother themselves with means of modesty, not when faced by other races, that is..” Scented with anger, Tyrande’s utter carried itself across the wide hall as she took a peek on her tunic, thin and soft in touch, weakly transparent, allowing one to see the pink shade of her nipples, even if no one but her own servants had an occasion to see her such.

“Is it better? I mean, the heat surely had to weaken without so much, unnecessary clothing, didn’t it?” He kept whispering and let her flesh go, allowing thoughts to still flow across her mind, heavy and sluggish but yet.

Her heavy stare watched the wolf retreat to his seat, feeling as cold wind caressed her scorched belly and burning thighs. At usual, she would have a word with whoever left the windows open but this time, she was endlessly grateful as it managed to put down a portion of heat.

“My well being is none of your concern as of now, Greymane.” Priestess words were meant to be decisive, yet were a clear attempt to not look as weak as she felt inside, still breathing heavily and burning from within. “We are here to discuss your…”

She smiled to her, forcing Tyrande to swallow her saliva in the face of his appearance, as if a sudden change met both of them. Since when you’re so damn large, you furred bastard. It was a timeless while till her eyes fell off his chest.

“... failure. And its consequences, do not try to avert my eyes from the topic just due to a momentary weakness of mine.” She clenched her teeth softly, forgetting to sit and knowing that beastly stare is locked in the elven tits, adorned with stiff, pink nipples of Elune’s champion.

“Forgive me. I would never by any means do so. But let us discuss once you return as my wine, just alike your own drink, are gone.” Moonlit eyes quickly fell on her own chalice, only a remnant of white nectar dwelled the bottom of it, vanishing her anger and replacing it with mild shame.

“S-So be it.” She stuttered, once more angry with no one else but herself for allowing a graceless stutter to leave her lips when before her closest ally and for failing to carry out as simple tasks of a host, such as keeping her guests’ chalices full.

Shuddering once more from the heat, she swallowed the unending flow of saliva and grasped her chalice, moving it onto the silvery plate. Carrying it alike a maid, High Priestess slowly neared the worgen lord in nothing but underwear and alabaster wedges with tall platform and thin heel.

Nearing the wolf, she felt her mind once more melting from his sight, thoughts turning into incomprehensible mess when shaking fingers grasped edge of the wine spent chalice, just to shakily place leave it on the plate.

“I’ll return… shortly.” Forced to take heavy breaths, her words were sluggish, cut in half as formulating one after another turned out to be harder than she would ever expect. It was but two steps before her muscles tensed and blush turned her cheeks red from the sensation.

With wolven hand once more digging between her buttcheeks, she managed to turn thoughtless head towards her guest, who only spoke with caring voice, squeezing her harder and mildly turning her eyes upwards.

“Red wine if you may. Thank you.” He released her ass from the brain clogging grasp and allowed the shapely, burning body to relax, bringing ability to formulate thought and word alike.

“Of…” She felt her throat tightening, a sign of swallowed liquids. “...course.” Slowly turning pink at the face, she treaded forward, gaining clearer thought with every further step from the wolf as her ass was still red from his grasp.

Greymane watched the elf walk away, her shapely rear dancing wondrously with every tiniest movement, and licked his lips in anticipation, seeing that the elf still fought valiantly, even when a slave to her own ass.

Passing the silvery plate onto left palm, she pushed the doors aside, stumbling into the kitchen and inhaling deeply as never before, taking a moment of respite from troublesome guest and cursing him in her mind. What is this… state.

Weak, moonlit gaze sweeped the kitchen, running across the bouncing tits and scarlet, huge cocks turning elven insides into a cumfucked mess and sharp claws choking swollen, red from spanking tits.

Where’s that goddamn wine? She stepped forward, passing one of her handmaidens face being relentlessly fucked by a huge, worgen tool. Tyrande scoffed, seeing as every detail of enormous canine cock could be seen through the neck bulge of her guard.

Priestess halted before the cook maiden jumping on a throbbing shaft, kissing one of Greymane’s wolves as her ruined paint slowly descended down cum stained cheeks. She shuddered, feeling as love juices began to flow down her thighs. I... I’ll have word with every one of you once he’s gone.

She walked between the ravaged bodies, looking for a bottle of Red whilst her closest servants slobbered on doggy dicks and fed on worgen spunk. Her feet took the priestess down into the cellar.

It took a while for her but Tyrande managed to rescue a bottle of Stormwind’s finest from a deep corner of the place, saving it from a pack of worgens which pinned one of the priestesses to the ground, forcing a likely fifth bottle of wine into her ass and Elune knows which down the throat.

Anger finally came back to her mind as she nearly slipped on the jizz stained stairs, nearly breaking the bottle in the process. This… What is that furred, arrogant wretch thinking. I am the priestess of Elune, I am not to stand for this.

She stormed up the stairs and then into the kitchen once more, holding both chalices and a bottle of Stormwind’s Noir on the plate, ignoring a sentinel’s head being pushed into a seed filled bucket, just to let out a stormy amount of air bubbles.

It took a heavy, resolute breath to enter dining hall once more, luxury which cumdrowning sentinel couldn't allow herself too, guzzling down gallons of seed as its level slowly lowered itself within the bucket.

“Your wine, Greymane.” Her will could falter when near the wolf but she brought the ordered brink and fulfilled her duties as a host so far, furred bastard would not talk himself out this time.

She bent when next to him and lowered neck of the bottle in quick motion, willing to be done with her service and finally have a talk with the wolf who allowed himself far too much under her roof.

Her resolve melted as she spread her lips, biting the lip whilst worgen claws squeezed purple buttcheek, softly pulling it to the side as scarlet drink was poured into the chalice.

“My utmost gratitude.” He purred as the wine awashed golden container, all whilst elven expression gradually grew pink and red, all due to the forceful massage of her rear. “Now we may talk about you helping me. I will need your word of support in future.”

“Why would I…” Her words were heavy from heat and speech shuddering, a shadow of resistance she would once bare. Tyrande felt saliva overflowing her mouth, just like alcohol overflowed the chalice.

“Because you want to.” His teeth shined as he turned his wrist, wrapping the flesh of her buttcheeks and causing the plump vastity of amethyst thighs to clench with enough force to snap Doomguard's neck.

Her hand weakly rised neck of the bottle when wolven hand ceased it's ravagery, yet still softly pressed against elven rear, enjoying its virgin softness.

“Here. Calm your thirst as well.” Tyrande's gaze fell onto the table as three pairs of huge, canine tools appeared above her empty chalice, each held by the firm, black furred hand of Greymane's wolves.

She watched in heat as they stroked the red shafts, running across the slick, shining from juices flesh and filling the hall with sounds of gushing doggy precum.

Elven tongue ran across the insides of her mouth, pushing the collected saliva around in a hungering manner and silently swallowing the excess.

Moonlit eyes lied locked on the stroked tools and she bit the puffy lip as loads of thick, oozing seed of the wolf were slowly shot into chalice, from ballsacks huge enough for its entirety to fill twice.

“Go on. Quench your thirst.” Hearing the words, her legs slowly took her before the nectar, a single step, yet once forcing locked thighs to spread and let the juices of love drip freely.

Tyrande stared down at the cum filled chalice for a timeless while, swallowing her saliva and watching the thick strings and tiny bubbles amassing near golden walls.

Elven fingers finally grasped it, not willing to wait any longer. Holding from the side and both by the base, she slowly raised the carnal drink before her lips, filling her nostrils with the fleshy aroma of dog cum.

“Go on. Don't keep your guests waiting. Duties of a host.” Greymane hasted her with ordering words as worgen soldiers kept stroking their fat, swollen cocks behind her back. Right. Duties of a host.

Edge of the chalice made it to her lips, instantly causing the moonlit eyes to shudder with intensity of what slowly poured itself onto the starved tongue, binding elven taste buds to taste of canine jizz.

Her fingers ran higher and higher, canting the container further and further as she felt the clogging, nearly molten seed descending down her throat, filling it and turning her stomach into cumdump of spunk.

Tyrande emptied the chalice, rising it entirely alongside her head as she refused to stop, feeling the growing addiction to the wonder of salty, brain melting amounts of seed, still warm from the trio of dog ballsacks.

Her head dropped as every tiniest bit made it into her. She exhaled heavily with spread lips, sending out waves of hot, rapid breaths as if showing off the strings of semen and saliva mixed together, spreading across her mouth.

It did not last long till a pair of sharp, flesh ripping claws grasped her bust from behind, clenching each of tender, kaldorei funbags with force, forcing the heat ridden flesh to spill from between furred fingers.

The cum bathed teeth clenched as her violator would spare no strength and pull juicy flesh, stretching amethyst breasts to a wild extent, right before ripping the tunic apart and freeing its content.

A pair of proud, pumpkin sized tits bursted out in freedom, swollen and far beyond simple man's grasp, far too large to fit in a pair of worgen or even orcish hands, each heavy alike a sack of potatoes.

Grasp of the beast ceased and her vast front freely fell down, slapping against elven body as her long, leafy hair grasped was grasped with force, turning her around and throwing deeper into the hall.

Tyrande landed on all four alike wolven bitch and stared at her own hanging, priestess’ tits, sacred flesh rubbing against tiled floor, rosy nipples kissing the cold ground, stiff and hot.

Rising the foggy, moonlit eyes, she grasped the fleshy scent before her gaze fell on the numerous, angrily red tools, one after another appearing before her as the wolven mass was awaiting to claim her body.

The heavy, mind infecting stench of canine dicks hanged all around her, bathing her senses in the carnal aroma and promise of pleasure beyond her imagination.

Tyrande was no longer a host nor hunter in her own halls, neither she was a prey, even more, between the furred ballsacks and angrily red cocks, she was but a meal for the hungering hounds.

A claw grasped her thin thong, pulling the string from between her buttcheeks and effortlessly forcing it to snap. The shaved, immaculate crotch of High Priestess stood bare, dripping and starved.

A heavy, carnal echo carried itself across the halls as a merciless, thundering slap was bestowed upon a a pair of vast, plump buttcheeks of Elune's choosen, sending tender flesh into a wild jiggle.

“Now, Tyrande.” Greymane spoke quietly as his hands spread the night ass with force, all as its owner clenched teeth with inhuman force to prevent uttering a medley of sounds unfit for a leader.

“You have no allies anymore. Merely a master and owner.” He let the virgin asshole in peace, walking around the elf and running lonely claw across her spine.

“Neither you are a leader. Leaders don't stand before their guests, red from heat. Neither they crawl alongside their own halls alike animals.” He wiped the precum covered cock into elven hair, ruining its natural beauty with indecent nectar.

“Of course you can still decline my offer and I shall walk away.” A tower of red flesh soon covered all of her sight as a swollen, hard cock was presented before the moonlit eyes.

She saw the countless veins spreading across his tool alike cracks on the ice, tens and tens of cracks, regularly shaken by a throbbing sign of desire and anticipation.

As soon as the kaldorei lips spread, he relocated his groin right before her, slapping the elven face with juicy member, bestowing each of blushed, red cheeks with rich stains of worgen precum.

It hanged before her, right between the eyes, thick as fist and swollen, hard alike steel and throbbing, oozing with precum which would soon become but a meal of her own, beginning an eternity of seed bound feasts.

“Make your choice, Tyrande.” His voice echoed as she felt a huge, wet shaft rubbing against her buttcheeks, alongside with a feral, inhuman growl accompanying it.

Invaded by the dick scented, precum carrying aroma, her body breathed with the carnal smells, thighs ran richly with love juices pouring endlessly and tifs hanged low when nipples kissed the floor.

She swallowed the seed filled saliva of her mouth and slowly, inch by inch spread her lips wide, making but space for wonders of dog cock to claim it entirely. “Yes.”

Her eyes mildly rose upwards as pounds of dog cock were slammed down her throat, spreading the tight flesh and forcing puffy lips to lay a spread kiss on the wide, molten knot.

But it was the ass spreading force which reduced elven thought to two fat, angry dog cocks filling her body as she obediently remained on all fours, allowing the shapely body to be thrown back and forth with force of rhythmic pounding.

Held by the pair of pointy, elven ears, Tyrande was repeatedly pulled onto Greymane's meaty tool, feeding on its juices, all whilst drowning in the wonder of dog dick claiming her insides.

And when her mind wasn't melting from the bestial sensation, ass of the priestess wanted to tighten around another wolven meat, ramming her insides and spreading the hole into its own image.

With pair of enormous breasts waving alike titty pendulum, kaldorei nipples lied hot enough for the tiles of former dining hall, now merely a place of elven, carnal fuckery, to feel alike chunks of ice, meant but to melt under heat of cock-filled body.

With the sensitive ears held by merciless wolven grasp, both holes reduced to cock sleeves for dogs and flesh of wide hips, she knew there was little chance for her to stand against Greymane.

Every second her tongue polished his cock and fed on beast's precum brought more surety, she lost when the first chalice of seed was poured down her throat.

She was but a pound of elven fuck-meat, jumping back and forth between two dicks, each binding her addiction to dog cocks with every, ass shaking thrust. Elune forgive me.

Tyrande came helplessly when her throat and rear were suddenly slammed with grand force, sealing her face as Elune’s cumdump for the furred and allowing gallons of thick, dog seed to fill her, staining every part of elven insides.

Glowing eyes rolled upwards when her cheeks, spread widely alike overstuffed squirrel's, lied full of worgen knot which broke deeper into nightly hole.

High Priestess felt the wondrous, carnal heat advancing further her spine as beasts in her wouldn't stop coming, pumping white nectar into her belly.

Tyrande witnessed that Gilnean lord’s amounts are far too large for her spread, yet still too tight throat to keep up, causing white avalanche to creep up her mouth and then spill from between the spread lips.

Some poured down her chin, dripping from the spot and just as much flew down further into the deep valley of kaldorei tits, between the pumpkin sized udders of purple skinned cumdump.

Greymane pulled out with force, yet slowly, feeling as the addicted tongue slowly pulled itself up his shaft, collecting every tiniest trace from his veiny skin as elven hole kept dog’s meat tightly.

One of the more feral worgens, an alpha specimen hailing from Bloodfangs, tempted solely by the promise of countless holes, rested one of his feet on the plump ass.

As his dick was surely held inside tightly as much as Greymane's, he tried to back his hips with force, using the tender rear as support for his foot, causing the entirety of it to dig deep down into puffy flesh of the elf.

As Tyrande's tongue wiped tightly worgen's glans, wolven lord finally pulled out of her mouth, leaving the priestess to breathe heavily, in ragged manner and starvation, watching the filthy strings formed between her lips and his cock.

“I'm glad we found common grounds in our…” He wiped the tool into her hair once more, getting rid of saliva. “... disagreement.” Another orgasm shook the filled body when a dick finally escaped her ass, leaving insides in a shape of sharp, canine cock and wide, fat knot.

Yet she wasn't given time to lay hand of stretched neck and check its new width, as another worgen grasped her by the long hair, pulling across the floor with force and trail of juices.

“I have matters to deal with Feathermoon. We would not like to keep any dangerous individuals off the leash. You understand.” Greymane called his personal escort, the only two prime, huge specimens of worgen might which did not participate in the wide spread rape.

“Keep up good work when I'm gone.” He marched away as Tyrande was thrown under a wall, next to the very doors leading to kitchen chambers.

Her eyes weakly looked to the sides, as she was added to the row of naked, cum stained sentinels, handmaidens and cooks, each sitting by the wall and blowing whatever cock popped before her.

Yet another red wonder of dog meat appeared before her not long after, throbbing, swollen and covered in endless veins, all as if she didn’t serve a moment ago.

She extended the addicted tongue and ran tip of it across the shaft as her body lied heavy with all of the dog cum inside her and heat taking over every part of elven flesh.

She resumed her work.


	2. No Bone for the Bitches

Adamantite razorhead slid slowly against the carved nock, approaching embossed head in a practiced, careful manner and resting its tail against a floral pattern of twin Sorrowmoss strands, bound together in union of the floral, death sworn flowers.

The bowstring of Elun’Tara held with strength and devotion, loyal to its owner, long destined for its unending service. A timeless while passed as moonlit eye watched, alabaster nails remained motionless as nature lied silent, as if sharing the tension of the string.

Only a wet, passionate noise disturbed the focused mind, turning the puffy, playful lips, shaded alike a darkened plum, into a tool of disruption. For as deep as they were, their owner had to succumb and back off mildly at some point, in the need of grasping air.

Freed mind quickly released its grasp, engraved arrow swirled across the air and caught the flawless, vividly green apple, snapping form the stone and carrying across the tiny meadow, just to pin against one of the aged oaks. 

Priestess risen a single eyebrow, lowering the bow and resting one of jeweled hands on shapely hip. Seeing the darkwood shaft sticking out of furit’s centre, she pushed back wide hipped body, forcing the final kiss in place of love.

Feathermoon left the last hot breath on priestess’ rear entrance, standing up from behind Elune’s chosen and unwrapping hands from around tender thighs. Kaldorei eyes fell on the pierced fruit as tongue licked the worked lips.

“To believe you would wait until my air grew thin.” Sentinel picked up elven warbow, resting on the ground for the time of her service. Clicking a few times with her tongue, she stared at the flawlessly impaled apple.

“It was not I who played dirty, pulling out tricks of such manner, even for a friendly contest.” Tyrande folded her hands, rising the enormous bust, mostly sliping out of the recently shortened dress with deepened cleavage. “But yet, I believe the victory lies by my side. Unless goddess bestows you with a way to outscore a perfect shot.”

Shandris grasped another razorhead arrow from the Kaldorei table, softly moving it onto the bowstring and pulling back, just to release within the same second and send another adamantite head soaring across the meadow, this time passing a moss strucken boulder and following in the same wake as it’s predecessor. 

Second shot pierced the feathered fletching and split Priestess’ arrow in half, allowing Sentinel to look back onto her friend with a pleased smile and leave a few playful slaps on the moon-ass of Tyrande, sending juicy flesh into soft wiggle. “It would seem the Goddess is truly by my side today. Guided my arrow, no less.”

Tyrande scoffed softly, watching the tattooed rear swing to the sides in a prideful manner. “A waste of good arrow. And an apple.” Shandris grasped shaft of her arrow and pulled out with force, taking off the fruit with second hand. “Awfully amusing, how a sweet, tender fruit may turn so bitter in such a short time.”

Dark lips separated a piece of the fruit from its body, letting out a gushing sound and uncovering the cream-shaded, gaudy insides, swelling with juice. Sentinel passed the fruit to her superior as she returned with a bright smile.

“You may be the High Priestess but I am the Ranger General, from your order no less. When you talk, I shoot things.” With a soft smile, she laid the eagle eye on deep moon-cleavage and added. “I won nonetheless. It would seem that your portion belongs to me today.”

“It may be but don’t forget where your loyalties lay. Perhaps alongside with the respect some deserve.” Tyrande squinted her eyes, staring at the playful elven ranger. Yet royal expression broke as hand of the sentinel dug under the short dress and pressed against round base of the heavy toy, stretching white panties.

“And so, the fruit sweetens once more.” Shandris took painted nails from the Priestess’ crotch and moved across the nightly meadow, hidden under shadows of elder woods, seemingly disappearing in every strain of darkness. 

“Time grows short. Let us ride, I would not wish to miss my reward.” Shandris neared the Kaldorei Warsaber, a loyal, vicious beast of good two hundred and sixty pounds of meat, a fewteen more if to count what lies between overgrown cat’s legs. 

Tyrande followed with squinted eyes, adjusting the thin string of mooncloth panties and pushing symbolic cover onto the spread ass. Under the needle wide cord of her thong, gaping entrance was bare. “Only because it’s Goddess’ will, Shandris.”

“I would not dare to claim otherwise.” Ranger General jumped onto the back of furried beast, well trained in the art of mounting big things, just alike her leader, who soon adorned her own mount. Feathermoon exhaled in a dreamy manner, feeling as leather saddle of her Sabertooth pushed both replicas of canine meat deeper inside, stirring the insides.

Shandris turned the beast around, nearing Tyrande in a slow pace, enjoying the view of the pink face, red from filled insides. Unlike her companion, Sentinel’s tits wouldn’t wiggle with every step of the mount, although rather thanks to the sturdy, leather armor, keeping amethyst bust in a firm manner. 

It wouldn’t last long till they made their way to Darnassus, due to the nature of their new position; they would not ride far from the capital, Oracle Glade or southern lake was as far as it could go. Greymane's leash was generous and giving, but even good bitch had to stay within her territory.

Watching the pumpkin-vast breasts of Tyrande’s jumping up and down, visible even from behind, Shandris laid one of her hands on the emerald shaded collar, playing with heart shaped gem of Moss Agate.

New life brought a promise of lasting peace and pleasure, later already bestowed upon her in drowning amounts. There was a price to pay, no doubt but watching the saddle-filling ass of Tyrande repeatedly flash under fluttering cloth was enough for her to feel ensured about the future.

Plump and creamy in its own vastness, High Priestess’ moon-ass certainly wasn’t spared its part of blessing when Tyrande was chosen by Goddess herself, huge enough to bury tauren's head beneath it without a sweat.

Although it was only her assumption, Shandris felt a certainty about her thoughts, given when she would descend to praise her mistress in the most fitting way, she would stand not a chance when brought before her leader's rear.

It was when grand gate of Darnassus shown itself, that they began riding next to each other, Feathermoon watched with a smile as a tiny part of the moonsteel toy would flash before her eyes, peeking from between grand buttcheeks with every time they jumped on saddle.

The newly appointed fucksmiths would work day and night to craft Tyrande's personal jewel, molding and smelting the valuable Moonsteel Ingots into the roughest, largest and most resembling replica of their owner's cock, all to fill their priestess for years to come.

A good pair of halberds could be achieved with such amount of steel, no less, yet they all knew weapons were but a mask from on now, kept merely as a illusion to achieve the final goal. Shandris, approaching the dozen of unlucky guards, bent lips in a pleased shape, even as it learnt many others over recent days.

Darnassian city guard stood proudly by the gate, wielding the glaives and unwavering expression of focus and duty but even then the Ranger could spot deep displeasure below the mask, each of her sisters would now rather be somewhere else than at the gates, turning back any visitors as elven capital entered a state of isolation.

Passing the gatekeepers, Warsaber stepped into the passage, slowly entering the long road leading into heart of the capital. A demanding growl reached High Priestess, although not coming from from her own beast.

“It would seem you did not take proper care of the beast.” Tyrande turned curious eye onto her friend softly patting the aged beast with care.

“My evening, just like the dawn, was consumed by more pressing matters, although I am going to atone when right time comes.” Shandris ruffled the beast more with a pleased smile, receiving only a growl in the response.

“It does not appear as if he liked your explanation.” Glowing eyes of the chosen turned towards her own mount; a well appeased beast at all times.

“Life tends to be unfair, I assume you would hear of that if our gate sisters were given a word to speak”

“Awfully confident as of late, I suppose too many things inside to let you think and express yourself with respect deservant by your superiors.” Moonlit gaze fell on the Ranger General once more.

“I don't think they would like this explanation.” Puffy lips spread even more into a radiant smile.

Tyrande scoffed. “Goddess tests us all to prove the force of our will and its power, loyalty no less. They will need to endure as we all do in times of need.”

Sentinel's smile prevailed. “Nor this one either.”

Priestess rolled her eyes and led further into the city, under the marble walls and crowns of elder woods. Surrounded with flowery beds and everlastingly blooming trees was the path to symbol of kaldorei culture, place of worship and glorious history.

Lamps of moonwell water brought light to their path as late evening was slowly approaching, laying shade on countless busts and asscheeks inside the walls. Day of carnall bliss had a much different scent than nightly, well stuffed moans of elven lips.

“Huntress Duskrunner.” Shandris uttered a word of greeting as they passed the marble, moss stucken pillars, leaving the ass filled sister to drool into grassy ground as her black Nightsaber gradually ravaged her rear with the feline meat, coated in a carpet of tiny, sharp spikes, turning every insertion into a vortex of sensation and stimulation, something the ranger knew from experience.

Huntress Skymane lied not much further, spread over the edge of ramp leading further into the Temple Gardens, slobbering over the tool of her mount as one of Greymane's wolves worked over her rear, filling the air with sound of worgen balls slapping against well used ass. 

“It would appear even your hunters can take care of their familiars, despite being busy with other aspects of their duty.” Tyrande slowly made it through the carnal passage and the marble bridge, where kaldorei maidens swarmed around furred beasts, their own and those brought by Greymane.

Shandris spread her lips but could not come with a fitting response for a time, long enough for the High Priestess to assume her victory. Leader of the Rangers let out a soft sigh and shook her head. She was still getting both of their portions, sparing a small spark of victory to her friend was perhaps for the best.

Rows of hooved sisters were led out of the Cenarion Enclave as gilnean wolves seemed to be found of four legged servants. Tyrande led her beast with a small smile, seeing as a good dozen of dryads, leashed together alike mules, were led across the bridge with buckets of grain attacked to their faces.

Watching the red cheeks, buried beneath stains of seed, she only rode her mount next to fuck coven as one of the worgen scouts guided the herd forward, likely into the eastern terrace where their asses would be properly tenderized for further use by proper pounding. 

“So many meadows and the cattle is about to be butchered.” Ranger led her beast across the temple gardens where elven bodies carpeted the floors, leaking and overfilled. A sight of well used brethren was something turning one’s nipples stiff, as if a sight of throat fucked dryad was not enough.

“Is this longing I hear in your voice, Ranger?” With voice of amusement, Tyrande stared at her friend as her butt still flashed before everyone, just alike her monumental tits, nearly spilling from the indecent dress, designed solely to exist as a moving symbol of their new future. 

“Longing is a strong word. Perhaps a whimsical need is more suitable.” Shandris’s voice was rather unamused as they slowly passed into the side entrance to the palace. “Speaking of being confident, you turned much more talkative since you choke on things daily.”

Tyrande’s hand ran across her collar as she jumped off the beast, allowing the stable maidens to take further care of it. Black diamond danced under the skillful fingers, deeply painted with alabaster dye. “Less on your shoulders, more on the tongue.”

Certainly more inside the throat. Before Sentinel's thought was over, they stepped onto the staircase, scaling for the royal chambers.

In a simplistic, no less minimalistic manner, the staircase was raised, meant only for the use of servants. With all this, it stood rather step, spiral and of small, grayish tiles. As elven archer soon found out, it had quite the advantages.

Letting the High Priestess march a few tiles ahead, Shandris followed with the expression of a fed puppy. Merely a few inches from her face, lied the greatest treasure of Kaldorei race, royal Moon-ass.

She watched the sacred buttcheeks swing to the sides with every step, plump and puffy in all of their fleshy vastity, each made of long built muscles, round and capable of breaking necks but yet covered in a proper, thick layer of fat, allowing for a perfect grab, firm but entirely hand filling.

Curves of monumental ass danced before focused eyes, all in the reach of her playful tongue. Deep buttcrack painted itself perfectly in elven sight as hungering cheeks softly swallowed a bit of white dress between them, uncovering edges of soft, tender meat. 

Entering the corridors of Moon Temple, she followed the Moon-ass into royal chambers and tossed the bow onto cracked bed, as more feral specimens of Greymane’s guard tended to break the wooden support with final thrusts.

Weapon drowned in the deep, jizz stained quilt and slowly slid down the fractured bedhalf. Tyrande unceremoniously dropped down jeweled dress, uncovering the laced thong and glowing base of fat, moonsteel replica.

Shandris smiled wildly. “On the bed, your Majesty.”

Moon Priestess scoffed once more and walked towards broken bedstead, bending over to show her grand bottom in all of its glory, causing Sentinel to skip a heartbeat. “Watch the time however. Being late does not lie in our interest.”

Nearing the colossus-class rearquarters, she laid tiny in comparison hands on the racial treasure, running them across twin pounds of fuckmeat, each allowing fingers to nearly drown in so delicate, yet so well pounded flesh.

Elven fingers softly dig between the royal asscheeks, already and much of ranger's strength had to be used in order to spread them, to nicely show holes of worgen use.

The flat base of womb-filling toy bathed anal valley in glimmering glow, painting Tyrande's more important lips in a pleasant to eye, cyan shade. 

She knelt before it, using her elblow to keep right buttcheek at bay and simply pulling left one away with the other hand, leaving Moon-ass on her mercy. She didn't have much of it.

“What do we got here..” Shandris chucked softly and ran hungering tongue alongside the rear valley, giving a taste to the moon-cock’s base. “Such a naughty, little… No.” She tapped it two times with long nails. “A naughty, fat ass of Elune.”

“Sh..” Tyrande had to clench her teeth softly, letting out the hot breath first, as her grand tits spilled down the tiny ramp of fractured bed’s half. “Shandris.” Scolding voice accompanied the elven growl. “This is not what we are here for.”

“I know, I know..” Ranger General assured with amused voice as palm of her hand fell on the enormous toy’s base, soon to lower itself and let the fingers wrap around half the shaft. 

She laid a simple, well salivated kiss on the enchanted steel. “Here we go then.” Supporting her elbow on the puffy ass, Shandris began to slowly pull out the giant meat replica out.

The carved, fat veins of Greymane's cock began to show themselves, work of the finest artisans of Kaldorei race sluggishly forced itself out, soon requiring both of elven hands to even hold it in the air.

Tyrande's eyes rolled up as an expression of ecstasy painted itself on her face, all in the wake of log weighing sex toy slowly leaving her devoted fuckhole. “My my, they really weren't playing around.” Shandris smiled as thigh-wide knot slipped out of the elven ass. “This weighs more than a taurenic totem.. What a waste of good steel~”

Once the knot jumped out, Sentinel managed to pull out the rest with no difficulty, leaning forward a bit due to the heaviness of High Priestess’s womb-filler. “There we go.” She stood from the knees and slammed moon-cock onto the small table, leaving it standing, nearly alike a proud statuette, a manifesto to her empress’ inner capacity.

Good boy. Now is my turn. With an amused, delighted kiss to the replica's tip, she turned back towards love-melted elven beauty of curves, slowly rising from the jizz bathed mattress as her hole stood open wide, gaping in the absence of its natural filler.

Tyrande blinked a few times in a numb manner, turning around. Seconds after she felt pressure on her tits and fell back onto the fractured love spot, spreading moonlit eyes widely as a soft, well rounded butt fell on her own waist. 

“Shandris, it is not time to…” Elven sentence broke in half as kaldorei nipple was soon pressed down with a sharp, long nail of a ranger, causing the sensitive udder to hide in puffy flesh, stripping sweet icing from the cake.

The same nails soon dug under the massive adamantite piercing, slipping under the steel and brining a mildly scared expression on moon-ass wielder’s face. ‘Sha-a..” A helpless attempt to speak broke once more as strong grasp wrapped itself across the adornment, pulling it up with force. 

“You see, your Majesty.” Shandris licked her lips with a pleased smile, uttering words scented with sweet, sweet promise. As priestess’ nipple was being stretched to no end, risen by merciless hand, yet pulled down with the weight of enormous udder, ranger grasped a piece of cum-soaked quilt.

“I’m truly saddened to inform you…” With teeth on the edge of breaking, Tyrande watched her friend as her face turned entirely red from the pleasure of nipple rape. “... but your rule ends in this bed.”

Ranger rose the tortured udder to her own face and then allowed it to fall freely, allowing the tormented body to relax in a glimpse of mercy. “Sha.. Fucking…” Priestess panted weakly, breathing heavily and looking upwards on her tied hands.

As thing quilt was tied into a beautiful moon-shaded bow with few stains of worgen seed, Sentinel let out a heavy, throat chuckle and cracked her knuckles, looking down at helpless body. 

“Shandris.” Tyrande panted out on a single breath and with still softly messed up expression, she looked down on her friend. “Listen to me for Elune’s sak-” Elven head shoot back once more as fingerless gloves fell on her tits, spreading them apart. 

Dominative lover kissed her priestess above the crotch, leading a long, salivated lick across pierced belly and into the valley of her enormous tits, just to rise and finish it on amethyst chin. 

“I don’t think the Goddess can help you now.” Shandris purred softly and then grasped the chin of her blushed mistress, forcing two pairs of moonlit eyes to stare at each other. Moving the red face aside, she neared the long, slick ear.

“You’re really… really spread down there.” A wave of hot air hit the sensitive ear. “Boooys will be pleased if you’re given a little time to.. tighten up.” Heralding, heavy laughter filled the bed. “And I am going to be pleased to give you that time.”

Ranger’s eyes squinted as she backed off, “So my little moonslut.. It will be a long, long, looong time before anyone comes looking for us.” She neared her plum lips to those of Tyrande’s, brighter only by a single shade.”

“Spread those beautiful lips or I am going to open them myself.” 

Her little moon slave only breathed heavily, staring with red but unconquered expression, swallowing her saliva afterwards, denying cooperation. Only a soft chuckle was given in response, Shandris expected no less. 

“What a naughty, little girl you are.” Her fingers slowly pressed the sacred mouth and rubbed against white teeth, forcing puffy lips to dance around it. Her second hand grasped the nipple again and twisted the piercing around, causing priestess’ body to arch and upmost love hole to spread.

Shandris forced her thumb into the mouth with content expression. “Should have listened to me~” Her own lips bent only into a wider and wider smile as she pulled kaldorei cheek to the side, spreading the entrance wider. “What a cute, tiny mouth you have. Almost as if half of worgen population didn’t use it daily”

Plump lips separated and Feathermoon’s tongue danced inside, just to form a big drop of sweet, sweet saliva and allow it to fall into her queen’s mouth. Tyrande shivered from the newly acquired meal and prompted yet another content chuckle from her mistress.

“Now that’s what you get.. Swallow.” A short, demanding order was give and kaldorei eyes could see in pleasure how a tiny, cute throat moved as told to. Shandris backed off a little and began to get rid of her armor, allowing her own respectable rack of tits, perhaps not as colossal but nonetheless capable of suffocating, to spill out with force of an avalanche.

Slipping the fingerless glove below, she quickly got rid of the problematic pair of leathery pants. “Or did you believe that you can just keep swinging this huge, fat pounds of rear meat before my face all day and nothing will happen?”

“Now let me explain this to you.” Laced, skyblue panties slowly slid down a pair of plump thighs. “This may be your palace for as long as Darnassus stands…” Landing in the moon shaded bowl, Sentinel’s thong dipped softly into the prepared wolven jizz. 

Elune’s chosen swallowed her saliva once more as the perfectly shaven ladyparts of her bed-mistress soon hanged before her face. “...but you’re in my bed now. Now eat you purple cumslut.”

A wild, fiery moan filled elven chamber. “Good girl.. You learn fast.” With closed eyes, one elven cumdump began to ride another, turning royal kisser into her own sextoy.

As the Glinean tattoo danced above love-drowned mouth, Shandris found her delight in the forced tongue service as Tyrande knew it was simple, eat out the elven lovemeat or suffocate under their might.

Fractured bedstead groaned beneath them as the general worthy rack of flesh jumped up and down with the force of Feathermoon's hip work, all as her previously discarded warbow lied crushed beneath heavy weight of elven fuckmeat.

A pair of priestly tits rubbed against muscled ass, reducing both of them to two shapely bodies manifesting themselves as the future of elven race. A future of elven cumsluts, drowning in pleasure amidst the jizz bathed, broken bed.

Wild moans echoed across the toy filled room, one spiked cock lying next to another, buried beneath spunk adorned pile of elven clothes. Shaped kaldorei ass jumping in the mirror, barely seen under the layers of wolven seed and thick stains of plum shaded elven lipstick. 

Shandris grabbed the long, cum-glued and leafy hair of her Queen, pulling it up as she slowly neared, adding the sensation of royal face buried in her cunt to the slowly impeding orgasm.

A broken, cum-starved pleasure-cry echoed across the elven halls and corridors as their High Priestess facefucked the Ranger General's hole, one of many sworn to Gilnean empire under an Oath of Sexual Subjugation.

Shandris sighed in deep relief, having the service owed her for so long. With a feline smile, she rose the hole of wolven-use from “her Majesty’s” face.

Tyrande breathed heavily, hungrily grasping the long defied air, her chest rose up and down, making it even harder inhale as it has to rise the weight of entire pair of Moontits.

“Shan..” She panted with anger between the breaths. “You are-” Buried once more under a grand body, her lips again had not a choice but to service whatever they were given.

Shandris rubbed the muscled rear into the royal seat, spreading plump, throne filling asscheeks around sacred face. She rose the recently snatched bowl of aged worgen nectar and kissed her soaked panties, tasting the aroma.

“Well no matter.” She tossed the underwear aside. “Plenty of ass to eat out left, Your Majesty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of you is willing to support me and help me bring more of those perversions to life, be so kind and visit:   
> https://www.patreon.com/user?u=19598705  
> And if you're plain crazy, you may even consider becoming a patron.
> 
> In case of such brazen maddness, starting at the price of 1$ you'll be able to access all exclusive stories and see everything I post 14 days ahead of non-supporters.   
> Furtherly, you'll be able to join my discord and motivate me to keep writing.


	3. Owl Slut of the Moon

A halfway used, dark lipstick ran across the skilled, puffy lips, bestowing them with a thick, indecent layer, soon softly disturbed by the curious tongue which ran across the adorned surface.

Shandris stood bent forward, before the tall, stained glass and smiled to herself, leaving a wet, salivated kiss on the mirror, just next to one of many, long blurred stains.

Staring at the full, dirty mark of her own cock-pleasing lips, she refreshed the layer of gifted adornment and nodded to herself. After a few playful expressions of her own reflection, she turned back her eyes, staring at the pair of tall, pointy ears, sticking out from between her proud asscheeks.

She shook her plump, night rear, waving the entirety of stuck royal head alongside her own pounds of rear meat. “It would seem I am done, your Majesty.” Plum shaded lips bent into a radiant smile as holy kisser separated itself from her other love hole.

Strings of thick, long stirred saliva formed between the puffy lips and Sentinel’s amethyst ass. A soft shudder shook elven body as a wave of hot air bathed her sensitive corner, all before a final kiss was given.

A playful, perhaps a little stupid chuckle left the well used throat of Ranger General as another elven figure soon rose from beneath her rear cushions, climbing slowly and using the plump flesh as a support.

With a heavy groan echoing in the royal chambers of public use, Tyrande leaned on the proper buttocks and squinted the moonlit eyes, well contrasting to the heated, red cheeks. High Priestess stretched her neck with a few soft cracks and laid a last, quick kiss on the puffy flesh.

Inhaling the scent of elven skin, she muttered quietly with indifferent voice. “I will not answer for this, shall we be late for the feast, Shandris.” With a proper slap she sent the Ranger’s asscheeks into soft wiggle and backed off.

“We are the dinner, Dear.” Shandris smiled and then grabbed a pair of thigh high boots, turning around and pressing the served bottom against reflective glass to leave a proud, heated mark. “Although, I certainly am going to get fed.”

“Haven’t you already?” High Priestess picked up the empty dog bowl with her name, seeing the licked clean walls and stainless wood. “By the Elune, I swear you make me believe there is nothing left in your diet but them.”

“May just be true.” Sentinel knelt before her leader and helped the tiny, elven feet to slid into the tall, proudly heeled footwear, soon taking care of the inner part of her thigh, tying the cords of her boot.

Tyrande hissed when her friend pulled the string with force, ensuring that they will not fall off. She rolled her eyes when Shandris passed her a pair of slightly oversized, Jade earrings. “I may also ask myself whether you see a High Priestess here or a Winterveil Tree without decorations.”

“I believe you should soften. A little sharp branches you got there, Your Majesty. ” Plum shaded lips kissed the air a few times and picked out a yet unstained, unragged and indecent dress from the starwood wardrobe.

“Boys like when you shine and look pretty, not as if you had much more to do either way. Besides, dress up you cumguzzler or we are truly going to be late.”

With this, It wouldn’t last long till her creation was done, shining alike the monument of elven degradation and gradual tumbling down into the cumfilled future.

Standing in the knee-high boots from alabaster silk, owl-slut towered in the overly raised and thin heels which beared over ten inches, designed to work as the tallest wearable shoe and to keep the feet in nearly vertical position with an extreme arch to the foot.

The inner side of boot was tied with a thin, silken ribbon, revealing the juicy legs as the plump thighs above lied uncovered, with only a thin fishnet giving a flimsy feeling of coverage to naked skin.

A masterfully sewn dress of moonsilk and jades covered her royal body, fluttering when the nightly wind broke into their chamber, showing off the crotch through a uniquelly located cut, providing both a proper flexibility in movement and frequent flashing of her crotch during it.

Only a slim piece of root shaped fabric, suited with proper fur of a Winterspring Bear Matriarch, hid the nearmost areas of her love hole, leaving half of the Kaldorei crest tattoo uncovered, peeking invitingly from the furfilled, fluffy nest which kept it warm.

Dark amethyst tits were covered in a flowery bra from darnassian steel, metallic tendrils wrapped tightly just around the edge of areola, barely covering it as they ran around the carefully fit cleavage, serving as the lining on the dress.

Amulet of Elune dug deep between the kaldorei funbags, granting a cold touch with every step and cooling down the ever-hot skin with grace of the moon.

“Good.” Shandris summed up and nodded to herself, tying tightly the wild, grand hair of her Queen. “You look like a big piece of seasoned meat which someone forgot to pound properly but is about to fix his mistake.”

“A peculiar comparison.” Tyrande looked at her friend with curious eye as elven hands picked up a strong, crimson lipstick from the desk and slowly applied it onto the puffy, grand lips of a royal cock-sucker.

Ranger used a few kisses to soothe the layer and brighten the shade, leaving a soft, immaculate coat of an inviting, flawless red. “I assure you, Your Majesty, in few hours it will be rather undersaid.”

“But let us not linger any more…” Shandris grasped a pair of filled panties and slowly forced them up the heavy legs, stretching mildly ruined fabric onto disobedient buttcheeks and staring satisfactingly at the thong disappearing helplessly between pounds of elven meat. "Oh and besides…"

Pleased eyes fell onto the high priestess. "No hard feelings about my little ride?" Tyrande nodded with indifferent expression. "No hard feelings."

"None at all."

Jizz dripped onto tiled floor, richly flowing down the elven head as a second fat cock rammed its way into the cumbathed mouth, spreading puffy lips and filing cheeks entirely with wolven meat.

Shandris gargled mindlessly as a primal wolf howled, squeezing yet another veiny rod into the thin throat, granting an irregular, twin bulge on the neck, stretching her collar to the point of near breaking.

Tyrande watched as yet another bucket of thick spunk was poured into the High Ranger's belly, part of which was spilled and painted purple face with white layer, burying it entirely as stretched stomach could not take any more.

Shandris whined mindlessly as gilnean hounds rushly pulled out of her throat, one knot following another, forcing long pounded lips to stretch around them.

"And how long do you plan to leave her there?" Greymane asked as seed poured down elven face, naturally following towards the ground as Sentinel was left on a banquet table, spread with tits-up and head over the wooden edge, allowing trained beasts to shot load after a load into exposed mouth.

"Till she learns her place." Tyrande rose the foot of her owner and worshipped padded bottom with passion, pressing plum lips as if for a deep kiss. Skilled tongue worked the worgen paws as Ranger's one drowned in dog's spunk.

Red marks of carefully applied lipstick now painted the beastly paw, leaving bright marks on the thoroughly cleaned skin, occasionally falling onto sharp claws as well.

"Fitting. Each meat should know its position." Whore Priestess left a long lick across object of her devotion, indifferently rising eyes onto her former handmaiden working over wolven balls, sucking and feeding on their aroma.

Leaking, overfilled holes of the minor priestess wiggled before her face, truesilver chain of a initiate's amulet sticked out of the stirred insides as Elune's apprentice drowned in heavy ballsack.

Greymane's hand squeezed the melon sized breast of a Darnassian coin maiden, a barely adult shapeshifter who grinded her virgin cunt against muscled, fur covered thigh, counting her hours before becoming a toy of common use.

Idriana’s face melted when her tender flesh spilled from between the sharp paws, filling the spots with puffy, heavy flesh, vast enough to drown not one face beneath. For a wise age, she was blessed with a ripe, grand front and greedy tendences easily turning her into Greymane's favourite.

Tyrande squinted moonlit eyes as beastly paw pressed itself onto her face, pushing down the shapely fuckmeat onto a richly spiked, roughly carved toy of darnassian wood, slipping another bland barbs into trained ass.

"Even so." Tyrande clenched snow-white teeth as the sacred ass halted on thigh-wide replica of otherworldly dick, locking on the final row of stimulating adornments, each thick and long alike a thumb. "It is only natural that each occasion should be spent to remind you of who you are."

High Whore's expression broke softly into a red, ass-broken mess when her insides hosted the barbed knot. It took a few, foot filled moments for her senses to return to anything resembling a thinking mind.

Grand, renowned buttocks of Kaldorei leader buried heavy carving between the colossal pounds of ass-meat, exposing it to the entire dining hall, now filled with rows of lying, cumfilled elves and remaining gilnean wolves pounding exposed assholes and faces to unconsciousness.

"Naturally." Tyrande shook her head soft alike a canine bitch and then rose quivering eyes onto her lord, following with shuddering voice. "Naturally, my lord."

"Around." Greymane ordered as his jaw pressed against the lips of the royal banker, tasting the heat of a woman willing to put money and spunk over her own loyalty. Watching the queenly cock-slave turn around on all four, wolf lowered his claw rubbing the frontal hole of Idriana’s, making the banker melt even more in pleasure as no worgen seed was needed to convince her to their cause.

Heavy, pumpkin-vast udders spilled out of the elven dress, mildly ripping the cloth with their sole weight. Plum shaded tits of the former High Priestess of Elune hanged freely, kissing the floor with heated nipples.

"Besides, we need to… Broaden our horizons." Worgen alpha rose his foot and then stomped between grand asscheeks, aiming on pure instinct as the spine breaking rear covered the wide, wooden base of carved dick.

Tyrande broke softly, falling onto her elbow and rising the Moonass higher as spiked tool just made it another inch deeper into plump body. She exhaled in ragged manner and softly dipped purple chin into cumpuddle staining the floor. "What is it.."

"Merely an acquaintance of yours. You see, if we are to reach true peace on Azeroth, we will need to expand our… pack." Greymane leaned a little forward and his jaw smiled contentedly as his slave fell face-down into spunk with move of heavy paw.

His foot suddenly slid deeper as trained, long tenderized ass of a Whore Priestess swallowed the thigh-wide tool entirely, adding a fewteen pounds to elven weight.

Bubbles of air rose and broke on the white, sticky puddle as Greymane backed off and grasped his ballsack loving slut by hair, rising the messed face of broken paint and worgen stench. "Considering you all fall so easily for a mug of throat clogging spunk, I do not consider it to be a difficult task."

Tossing the crotch slut next to her leader, he grasped the crotch-shaved by the throat and gave her a last drop of his saliva to feed on before slamming the thin, long trained asshole onto his enormous tool.

Tyrande watched buckets of thick, hole clogging seed being poured down onto Shandris’ face, burying her entirely beneath gifts of Gilnean nation, both the animals and the beasts, all as she still stroked scarlet, fat dicks of lesser hounds.

Greymane leaned back onto his newly acquired throne as fat front of greedy bank-slut jumped up and down before him, following the mindless riding of a cock starved night elf, paid a single gold coin for every time her womb is filled.

"With this, I will have you call a council. To discuss our future moves when it comes to war with the Horde." Worgen lord waved his hand, bringing two royal guards to raise the cumdrowning priestess.

Wolf stared at the broken elf for a few moments, pleasantly watching as she dealt with all of the seed accumulated in her mouth, pushing it down the collared throat and taking a deep breath. "If that's your will.”

Tyrande stared at the heavy, nearly treacherous asscheeks, repeatedly slapping against worgen groin, growing red with the force of her pounding. Moonlit eyes watched the vast, veiny dick grinding kaldorei insides, carefully examining every single vein and the elven asshole, slowly taking the shape of an angrily red knot. "Then it will be done."

"Good girl." Greymane ordered for the dryads to be brought inside, all with a simple gesture, watching dozens of former Kaldorei royalty drowning in puddles of thick seed and serving in rows, keeping the canine rods clean as their Queen once more fell onto the ground.

"I shall make my exit soon. Your hospitality knows no bounds and yet I am to leave. Especially if you are meant to message the leaders of alliance on my behalf." Gilnean lord exhaled deeply and nodded to himself. Idriana slowly worked for her fortune, drooling onto her own tits and wetting the grey fur.

"Besides, I believe we've got all the bitches pregnant by now."

Tyrande smiled pleasantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of you is willing to support me and help me bring more of those perversions to life, be so kind and visit:  
> https://www.patreon.com/user?u=19598705  
> And if you're plain crazy, you may even consider becoming a patron.
> 
> In case of such brazen maddness, starting at the price of 1$ you'll be able to access all exclusive stories and see everything I post 14 days ahead of non-supporters.  
> Furtherly, you'll be able to join my discord and motivate me to keep writing.

**Author's Note:**

> If any of you is willing to support me and help me bring more of those perversions to life, be so kind and visit:   
> https://www.patreon.com/user?u=19598705  
> And if you're plain crazy, you may even consider becoming a patron.
> 
> In case of such brazen maddness, starting at the price of 1$ you'll be able to access all exclusive stories and see everything I post 14 days ahead of non-supporters.   
> Furtherly, you'll be able to join my discord and motivate me to keep writing.


End file.
